


Next To Me

by supreme_genius



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Bit of Nick Whump, Break Up, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_genius/pseuds/supreme_genius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You couldn’t be there for him. Things got tough and you left. And you know what? I’m gonna make sure he never gets left again.” He calmly shuts the door. He wants to slam it so hard it knocks her off the porch, but he’s not like that. He stands at the door, hand still on the doorknob. His hands shake with all the anger that’s building inside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I still don't own Grimm or make any money from this.  
> This is unbeta'd.
> 
> Title is from a song by Emeli Sande.

                Nick stood in front of the bathroom mirror, still fussing with his hair. Finally content, he runs his hands over the front of his sweater, smoothing away the wrinkles. He makes his way downstairs, pulls on his jacket, and grabs his keys and wallet off the counter. Ducking into the living room, he says goodbye to Monroe and heads out the door.

                He pulls up outside a little café, reading the address once more to make sure it’s the right place. When he walks in, he sees Juliette sitting near the back and navigates around the scattering of tables, taking a seat across from her. He smiles at her as he wiggles free from his jacket. She smiles back, but he knows it’s fake; that feels like a million little pins pricking his heart. When she orders only a coffee, he decides against the delicious sandwich he was eying up on the menu and just orders a soda.

                They chat idly, mostly trying to catch up on things since Nick started staying with Monroe. It’s awkward and forced and Nick would be an idiot if he didn’t know the end was near. Juliette keeps looking away, refusing to make direct eye contact with him. She taps her fingers on the table and sighs.

                “I think we should just call this a loss, Nick.”

                Nick doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring out the window. His eyes are focused on an antique shop across the street.

                “You have to agree that things just aren’t working. I still don’t remember you. I’m sorry. I wanted to, but that didn’t seem to matter. My mind just wouldn’t let me.”

                “There’s no reason you and I can’t make new memories.” He says, still staring out the window.

                “Come on. This is all so forced, so fake. I’m very appreciative that you’ve been a gentleman about things. You slept on the sofa. You tried to help me remember. You never pushed.” She sighs again. “Nick, I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to quit on us, but things will never get better.”

                “You don’t know that.”

                She rolls her eyes. “Either way…there’s someone else.”

                Nick turns his head towards her but doesn’t make direct eye contact.

                “I have feelings for someone that isn’t you…and I want to see where it goes.”

                Nick nods, clenching his jaw.

                “I think you should pack your things and leave. For good.” She takes a deep breath and her face becomes more stern. “I don’t want you back at the house unless it’s to get your things. You have somewhere you can stay.” She digs through her purse then tosses a few dollars on the table. “You still have my number, I’m sure. Text me and let me know when you can get your things. Goodbye, Nick.” With that she stands, grabs her coat, and walks away. She never looks back at him.

                Nick manages to keep his composure while leaving the café. He leaves money for his untouched soda and walks out. He sits in his truck, hands clenched around the steering wheel. He takes a few deep breaths but he still feels like shit. When he finally starts his truck and pulls away from the parking lot, he heads over to the beer distributer and picks up a case of Guinness, then heads back to Monroe’s house. When Monroe raises a brow, Nick claims he’s just replacing what he drinks. Monroe doesn’t believe him – not even a little bit – but doesn’t say anything.

                Monroe finishes packing up the clock he’s got, adding a little extra bubble wrap before setting in the box. He tells Nick that he has to take it across town to his client and then tinker with the woman’s grandfather clock. Nick just nods and flops on the sofa. Monroe promises they’ll talk later, but Nick just shrugs, not quite in the mood to talk anyway.

                Monroe’s gone not even five minutes when Nick starts on his first beer. In the short time – well, two hours – that Monroe is gone, Nick puts a little dent in the case of beer. There’s six empty bottles lined up on the coffee table when Monroe walks back in. He just shakes his head. He gathers up the bottles and sets them on the kitchen counter beside the sink. Then he returns to the living room and scoops up a very drunk and passed out Nick. He carries his friend upstairs and lays him in bed. His eyes move over Nick once more and he shakes his head one last time before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

                He rinses out each of the bottles and sets them in the sink to dry. He opens the fridge to grab a beer for himself but decides against it. He opts for a glass of water instead. He sits on the sofa and he starts to wonder about what happened today that could have made Nick so upset. He glances towards the stairs and sighs. Before he heads off to bed, he grabs a bucket and returns to Nick’s room, setting it next to the bed.

                Monroe doesn’t sleep much; his mind keeps wandering down the hall to Nick. He knew his friend was sad, that everything that had happened recently was really taking its toll on him. Monroe had no idea how to help. He figures he’d just give Nick time and makes sure that he was there for him. But somehow he wasn’t sure how much that would help. Nick’s been sad ever since he found out what was going on with Juliette and came to stay with Monroe. It had gradually gotten worse and tonight was the epitome. Monroe is worried, to say the least. For the past week he’s been hinting to Nick that maybe he should take a few days off. Nick hasn’t gotten the hint.

                Nick sleeps a solid two hours before his head starts to pound so much it wakes him up. He groans and rolls over. It feels like someone smacked him over the head with a frying pan. Eventually he gets up and grabs a few aspirin. He spends the rest of the night tossing and turning, getting very little sleep. The sleep he does manage to get is plagued with nightmares.

                Morning comes too soon for both of them. When the sun starts to seep through the blinds and hits Monroe in the face, he groans and rolls over. He checks the clock; it’s just after six. Monroe decides he can skip pilates for a day, so he pulls up the blanket and tries to fall back asleep. Nick, on the other hand, pushes himself up into a sitting position. Grabbing his phone he puts a call into the station and takes a sick day and requests a few more days off. Finally he decided he’d take his friend’s advice and take a little time off. He could no longer deny that Monroe was right; he needs some time off.

                Nick sets his phone back on the nightstand and lies back down. He lets his mind wander, something he’s been trying hard not to do lately. It seems like anytime he’s not busy with a case, he’s thinking about everything that has happened with Juliette. He’s tired of thinking about it – her – and he’s tired of feeling it. She moved on and he knows he should too.

                He lays in bed for an hour before he finally pulls himself out of bed, knowing he’s not going to fall back asleep. He goes through his usual morning routine – shower, shave, get dressed. As he heads downstairs to grab some breakfasts, he notices something is off. It takes him all of about two seconds to realize Monroe isn’t up. He frowns. After looking around the empty kitchen, he starts pulling things from the cabinets. He’d been picking up little cooking tips from Monroe for the past few weeks. He does his best to remember how Monroe makes pancakes.

                “Dude, what’re you doing?” Monroe says as he walks into the kitchen.

                Nick jumps a little. “Oh, I’m making pancakes.” He smiles.

                “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

                He shakes his head. “I finally took your advice and took a few days off.”

                Monroe nods, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

                “It’s Folgers, just so you know.”

                Monroe frowns at the cup but shrugs and adds milk and sugar.

                Nick flips the pancakes on to two plates and slides one in front of Monroe. He grabs the butter and syrup and fixes himself a plate too. They eat their first few bites in silence, then they start making faces at each other.

                “These are bad, aren’t they?” Nick looks up from his plate, lips bent in frown.

                Monroe nods. “Sorry, man, but these…suck.”

                Nick pouts.

                “Don’t worry, I’ll whip us up a fresh batch. Why don’t you watch me?”

                Nick still pouts as he watches Monroe mix a few ingredients. He tries to figure out where he went wrong, but comes up blank. He sighs a few times. Monroe notices and for some reason he smiles. He can read Nick so easily, and Nick has no idea. Monroe steps to the side and pulls a bag from the cabinet; Nick smiles. Monroe dumps almost half the bag of chocolate chips in the bowel. He tosses one at Nick, who shrugs, picks it up off the counter, and eats it.

                In a few minutes, Monroe’s flipping some pancakes on a plate and setting it on the table. The two of them sit back down and dig in. They make small talk around generous bites of chocolate chip pancakes. Nick mentions wanting to clean and organize the trailer, not thinking Monroe would want to join him. But Monroe starts talking about plastic bins and labels and Nick can’t help but smile ear-to-ear.

                “What?” Monroe’s brows come together.

                “You just get so excited, it’s funny.”

                “Umm…okay.”

                “In a good way.”

                After breakfast they two head over the trailer. Monroe’s eyes grow wide when he sees the mess that Nick calls a trailer. It looks like a bomb had gone off in there. Since Rosalee’s been away, Monroe’s been in charge of the spice shop and hasn’t been to the trailer. He had no idea Nick had let it get so messy. Something crunches under Monroe’s foot. He looks down and finds a half-eaten bag of Cheetos. He shakes his head and looks over at Nick.

                “Dude.”

                “What?”

                “It looks like a tornado ripped through here.”

                Nick looks around and frowns. “Yeah.”

                Monroe just rolls his eyes and starts picking up some of the trash. “You are so lucky you’re my best friend.”

                It takes them about an hour to pick up all the trash, bag it up, and toss it outside. Then they start to pile up all the books – most of which have been strewn across the bed and floor – on the desk. Next they stack them in alphabetical order and start putting them up on the shelves. By the time the trailer is back in order, it’s just after one in the afternoon. Monroe is still grumbling, but soon stops when Nick suggests lunch and even offers to pay.

                After lunch, they head home. Monroe’s got a clock he wants to work on and Nick is in need of a nap. Monroe ends up finishing the clock and reading a few chapters in his new book by the time Nick gets up. Nick flops down on the couch with a yawn. The two discuss dinner and decide on pizza; Monroe really doesn’t feel like cooking tonight.

                There’s a knock at the door that comes way too soon for it to be pizza. With furrowed brows, Monroe gets up and opens the door. He looks around but there’s no one in sight. A small envelope lying on the welcome mat catches his eye. It’s got Nick’s name on the front.

                “What’s this?” Nick asks as Monroe hands him the envelope.

                “I don’t know. It was on the porch. I didn’t see anyone around.”

Nick rips it open and pulls out the paper inside. His face becomes bleak as he reads the letter.

“What is it? Who’s it from?”

“It’s…from my mom.” Nick looks up, eyes a dark grey.

“Whoa.”

“She’s in Seattle. She wants me to come see her.” He looks back down at the piece of paper.

Monroe doesn’t say anything, but he can’t help but think something sounds suspicious.

“She can’t come back to Portland. Doesn’t say why.”

“You gonna go?”

“I don’t know. How can I be sure it’s really from her? You know what I mean? I could go and it could be a set up.”

“Maybe she’ll call or something.”

“Yeah, maybe. Do you think I should go?”

“No.” Monroe gets right to the point.

Nick nods. “If I go, will you go with me?”

“I don’t think you should go.”

Nick looks back up. “Okay.”

There’s another knock at the door. This time it’s their pizza. Nick tries to forget about the letter, at least for now. He’s about two slices in when his brain starts to wander.

“But what if she needs me, Monroe?”

Monroe rolls his eyes and sighs. “Dude, when you know for sure it’s her, go. But until then, your ass is staying home! Got it?”

Nick’s taken back a bit. “Um, yeah. Okay. Yeah. Sorry.”

After a few more slices, the two start to clean up. They’re interrupted by the phone ringing. Monroe, elbow deep in sink water, asks Nick to get it. Nick picks up the phone and greets the caller. A woman is on the other end. It takes him a second to realize who it is.

“Nicky, it’s me.”

“Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Did you get my letter?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I had someone drop it off. I was hoping they’d be punctual.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I heard it through the grapevine.”

“Oh. So, uh, why do you want me to come to Seattle?”

“I have a few things I want to give you. A couple Grimm things and something of your father’s.”

“Okay. Why can’t you come here?”

“Too much attention. With that royal there…I just don’t trust him. The one here, he can be trusted.”

Nick nods, not realizing that his mother can’t see him.

“Are you still there, Nick?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Um, when should come see you?”

“Can you come tomorrow? I know it’s short notice, but I’m going to be traveling soon.”

“Yeah. I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Go to the address I wrote in the letter.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Without saying goodbye she hangs up, leaving Nick with a lonesome dial tone.

Monroe comes in, rolling his sleeves back down. “Your mom?”

“Huh?” Nick looks up.

“On the phone. It was your mom, right?”

“Oh, yeah. The letter’s from her. I’m gonna go up there and see her tomorrow.”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

“She’s got some stuff for me. I guess Grimm stuff and something of my dad’s.”

“You want me to go with you?”

Nick thinks about it for a minute, then shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright, man. It’s nothing big. I’m sure I’ll be back later tomorrow night. It’s three hours up. I’m sure I’ll spend a little while with her. Then three hours back. I’ll try to be home for dinner.”

Monroe nods. “Okay.”

Nick looks away, back at the letter. He’s folded it in half, so he’s staring at a blank part of the paper.

“You’ve got something on your mind.” Monroe says it very matter-of-factly.

Nick nods but doesn’t say anything.

“You want to talk about it?”

Nick shrugs.

Monroe pauses. “It’s about yesterday, isn’t it?”

Nick nods again.

Monroe reaches out and squeezes Nick’s shoulder. “If you want to talk, about anything, you know you can always come to me.”

“I know. Thanks, Monroe.” Nick looks back up at him and smiles. “Do we, uh, got anymore cake?”

“Yeah. I’ll get you a slice.”

They eat cake at the table, making mindless chit chat. Nick dances around what happened at the café with Juliette. He wants to talk about it, wants to talk to _Monroe_ about it. But he’s not ready; his wounds are too fresh. But Monroe knows, sort of. He knows that something happened, knows that’s Nick’s hurting. That became pretty obvious after last night.

The next morning, Nick gets up first, wanting to get an early start. He’s determined to be home for dinner. When Monroe gets up, he puts off Pilates for a bit and makes Nick a lunch to take with him. Nick leaves by eight-thirty. Monroe looks at the clock every half hour, just waiting for him to come back. Monroe gets in some extra Pilates, trying to keep himself from worrying about Nick.

After taking a nice, long shower, Monroe heads back downstairs to make himself something to eat. He’s interrupted by a knock on the door. He frowns, stepping away from the bell peppers he was cutting for his omelet. When he opens the door, Juliette is standing on the other side. He doesn’t invite her in. His stance gets defensive, standing up straight, blocking the doorway.

“Hi, Monroe.”

“Hello.”

“I’m looking for Nick.”

“He’s not here.”

She sighs. “Don’t jerk me around. I know he’s here. Hank told me he’s been staying here, and that he took some time off.”

“Do you see his truck?” He barely keeps himself from growling. “He’s not here.”

“Fine then. Can you tell me where I can find him? I really want…need to see him.”

“No, I won’t. You know what, Juliette?” Her names leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you when you were at the café, but you really hurt him. He came home and drank away his problems. I had to carry him to his room. He’s my best friend and I don’t mind taking care of him, but not like this. I’m not going to let you jerk him around. I’m not gonna let you keep hurting him. You had your chance and you blew it. He tried so hard. You don’t deserve him. You don’t even know half of what that man has done for me.” He takes a step closer to her but doesn’t cross the threshold. The difference in their heights is overwhelming. “You couldn’t be there for him. Things got tough and you left. And you know what? I’m gonna make sure he never gets left again.” He calmly shuts the door. He wants to slam it so hard it knocks her off the porch, but he’s not like that. He stands at the door, hand still on the doorknob. His hands shake with all the anger that’s building inside him.

He walks back into the kitchen and finishes making his omelet, not letting that red-headed devil invade his mind. He goes on with his day, finishing the clocks that need to get done. He does his bills and balances the checkbook. He gets a text from Nick around two in the afternoon, saying that he’s leaving soon. Monroe texts back and says he’ll have dinner on the table around six or six-thirty. The time starts to pass more slowly the closer it gets to six.

As Monroe sets the last plate on the table, Nick walks in the door. He sets down the box he’s holding and takes off his coat, hanging it up next to Monroe’s. Then he kicks off his boots, again setting them next to Monroe’s.

“So what’s in the box?”

“Couple tomes, a knife, a few miscellaneous sketches.”

“What about your dad’s things?”

Nick reaches into the box and pulls out a watch, then hands it to Monroe.

Monroe’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, dude.”

“It doesn’t work.”

“I can fix it. This watch is an absolute beauty! Holy crap. This is…wow.”

Nick can’t help but smile.

“Man, this is the nicest watch I’ve seen in a long time.” He pauses then looks up at Nick. “Please don’t wear this to work.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

Monroe walks into the living room and gently sets the watch down on his workbench. He admires it for another moment before returning to the kitchen.

“You made lasagna?”

“Yeah.”

“I love your lasagna!”

“I know.” Monroe smiles a smug grin.

“So how was your day?” Nick pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge and sits down at the table, pouring two glasses.

“Oh ya know…same as any other. I did some extra Pilates after you left and then worked on a few clocks.”

Nick nods. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.”

“When I met Juliette at the café…it didn’t go well.”

Monroe nods.

“She said she wanted to officially end things. She’s seeing someone else. She said I’m only welcome back in the house if it’s to get my things.” He looks down at his plate and pushes his food around. “It sucks, Monroe. I feel like the last few years have been a total waste, like none of it matters. I tried. I tried so hard. And she seems just fine to throw it all away. And then, get this, she texts me earlier today. She wanted to meet with me again, try to work things out.” He shakes his head. “I told her no. Guess her other _option_ didn’t work out.”

Monroe’s quiet for a moment. “She came here, earlier. She was looking for you. I guess Hank told her that you’re staying here and took a little time off.”

Nick doesn’t say anything.

“She asked me where she could find you. I didn’t tell her.” He looks away, debating if he should tell Nick what he said or not. “I told her how I felt. That I hate that she’s been jerking you around. I told her that she doesn’t deserve you, that you deserve someone better than her. I’m sorry, Nick. It wasn’t my place to say those things.” Monroe gets up from the table and walks into the living room.

Nick jumps up and goes after him. He approaches Monroe slowly, gently reaching out to him. He lays his hand on Monroe’s shoulder. Without pulling his hand away, he takes a few steps around Monroe so that they’re face-to-face. Their eyes meet and Nick notices just how sad Monroe looks.

“Yes it was.” Nick nods. “You actually care about me. I couldn’t stand up for myself. I’m glad you said those things to her.” He takes a breath. “And you know what? You’re right. I do deserve better.” He takes another breath and steps closer, closing the small gap between them. He leans up on his toes, just a bit, and presses his lips to Monroe’s.

They kiss like there’s no tomorrow. The emotions that have been pent up in them for far too long are starting to show. Nick reaches up, cupping Monroe’s jaw. Monroe’s arms find their way around Nick’s waist, holding him close. When they part it’s to catch their breath.

Nick looks up at Monroe with those big grey eyes that make his heart melt. “I deserve you.”


End file.
